


Graveyard Confessions

by DIW



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Canonical Character Death, Cemetery, Gen, Mental Breakdown, Suicidal Thoughts, grave robbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DIW/pseuds/DIW
Summary: In the middle of patrol Nightwing comes across the Red Hood having a mental breakdown
Comments: 27
Kudos: 213





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted something super angsty but ended up writing this... Enjoy?
> 
> Takes place while the Red Hood is no longer actively attacking but still is very much a criminal
> 
> Ah, and if you didn't read tags, WARNING, thoughts of suicide

Nightwing was mid grapple swing when his com came to life. 

“ _We’ve got reports_ _of suspicious_ _activity_ _at_ _Central Cemetery”_

“Activity like ‘loitering’, or activity like ‘zombies are going to eat my brain’?” Even though Babs (probably) couldn’t see it he gave his best roguish grin, already switching directions. 

“ _Someone going in,_ _no_ _sightings of anyone coming out so far_ _.”_

“So _far._ I’m three minutes out. If I see anything moving that _shouldn’t_ _be,_ I’ll give a shout. Maybe a high pitched shriek.” 

He grinned again as she shut connection on her end without comment. It was easy to picture Oracle rolling her eyes at him. 

It should be an easy enough in-and-out event, likely a drunk, or vandals. Could be teenagers who thought hanging out in a graveyard at night made them ‘edgy’. 

Swinging in over the high fence he found himself hoping it _was_ just teenagers looking for peer approval. The thought of people being so completely disrespectful to not only the dead, but the family who mourned them...it made his blood boil. 

He had lost enough people himself and if anyone _touched_ any of the graves in a manner that was less then respectful the criminal charges would be the leastof their problems. 

Nightwing crept silently through the graveyard. It was the largest one in Gotham so it didn’t surprise him that he hadn’t immediately stumbled upon the intruder. They could be at the opposite end. They could have snuck out already. 

No whispering or beaming flashlights so far, it very well could be that someone had gotten intoxicated and wandered in to chat with a loved one. It had happened before, and it hadn’t taken too much effort to steer them on home after they finished up their chat. Dick was happy enough to let the person say their piece, even lend an ear if they wanted. Going to the place where the body lay never held much appeal to Dick, his loved ones stayed by him no matter where he was, they could _always_ hear him, but he could understand how being here might be more....solid for someone. 

But as he crept on, as he strained his ears, he heard something off in the distance that didn’t sound like _talking_. 

There was some feeling in his gut, some tugging at his memory as he got closer. 

His stomach rolled when he was close enough to identify the sound. 

Some one was digging up a grave. 

Some one was _digging up a grave._

They could be looking to grab whatever jewelry the person had been buried with, or something more nefarious, it didn’t matter. They were going to regret this. 

“Looking for something?” he asked as he moved to loom over the digger. It had been a fight to not drop in on the person feet first. He might be explosively angry but as far as he knew the perp wasn’t violent and Nightwing didn’t want to start something if he didn’t absolutely have to. 

The man didn’t react at all to his question or his presence, just steadily continued to dig in a desperate, almost possessed manner. 

It was possible the man _was_ possessed. Or drugged. Possibly deaf? 

Moving clearly to the side of the grave, the side not slowly forming a mountain in soil, he still didn’t get a reaction but he did get his first good look at the grave robber. 

His mind whited out in rage and confusion for a moment. “What are you doing Hood?” he growled. 

But still no answer, no pause in movement. 

That, as much as anything, had Nightwing on edge. He might not have had any run ins with the bastard himself recently but he knows the criminal would never pass up the chance to spew venom at them, took every excuse to fight any bat he saw. 

After all the damage he had caused it was hard not to bash the mans head in and drag him to blackgate where he belonged. 

He had nearly killed Robin, he could have killed Batman. These are not things Nightwing forgives anyone. 

But something was seriously off right now. 

He gave the man another once over. He looked to be wearing his normal uniform, a quick glance around and he spotted the customary helmet placed sitting at the foot of the grave. Nightwing figured he could be forgiven for missing it earlier, there were no lamps in the cemetery, they were too far from the street for any street lights to reach them, so he was relying on the night vision in his lenses. The fact that the Red Hood hadn’t brought any sort of light suggested that this wasn’t premeditated. 

Say what you would about the crime lord, he was prepared for just about anything. Its why he wore a domino under his helmet. Though he wasn’t wearing one now. 

Though he did bring a shovel. 

Did someone get to him? Were they controlling him? 

Grave robbing hadn’t really been his style. He left bodies laying around, but it seemed more that he lost interest once the person stopped kicking. 

What would he want with this grave? 

Nightwing physically rocked backwards as it hit him. 

He slowly lifted his eyes to see what his memory had been trying to warn him about earlier. What he didn’t want to know. 

A simple head stone. A name, a date, no flowery words or loving message. Simple cold facts. 

Dick had been angry when he first saw it. He had been hurt and angry for so many reasons at the time, but seeing no kind words to honour the young boy who died just seemed unbearably wrong. 

He had only been out here once. Was only able to pay his respects with Kory by his side, lending him her strength. 

The Red hood was digging up Jasons grave. 

He was digging up Nightwings little brothers grave. 

Then, feeling decidedly off kilter, it hit him – He was digging up _his own grave._

It felt so completely wrong Dick almost laughed. 

Instead he crouched down and shouted “Stop this!” 

The Hood didn’t so much as flinch. 

Nightwing put a hand on his shoulder but was quickly shrugged off. 

“Stop!” he growled reaching now to grab the shovel. 

The other man yanked it back, giving Nightwing a hard shove for good measure before going back to work. 

Jumping into the hole with him - how long had he been digging before Nightwing got here? – Nightwing tried to wrestle the shovel away from him, finally causing the other to fight back. 

Hood threw a punch or two, shoved him, shoulder checked him but kept one hand on the handle at all times. 

“What are you trying to do?” Nightwing yelled as he finally ripped the tool out of his grip and threw it a short distance away. 

Instead of answering the younger man let out a pained wail before diving down on his hands and knees to claw handfuls of dirt out of the way. Fighting the ground so desperately he didn’t seem to notice as the soil slid right back into place. 

The hand he placed on the mans shoulder was ignored entirely this time so he wrapped his arms around Hoods chest and tried to pull him up. “Why are you doing this?” Hood pulled against him, hands still working to empty the ground. “Answer me!” 

Wrapping his arms over the others, pinning Hoods arms to his sides and locking his own arms around the mans middle Nightwing managed to pull them back up. 

Hood muttered something Nightwing couldn’t hear. He alternated struggling weakly and thrashing violently in Nightwings arms, still trying to reach into the hole he had made. 

Tipping his weight backwards Nightwing positioned them so he was laying back against the edge of the gave with the taller man laying mostly on top of him. 

No longer able to easily see the plot he had been exhuming allowed most of the struggling to die away, but the other was still tense, coiled like a spring. 

“I need to go back.” It was said quiet enough that Dick wasn’t certain he had heard correctly. “I need to go back.” 

The way his arm pulled against Nightwings hold, the way his hand clenched and unclenched as he reached back towards the grave left no doubt of where the younger man wanted to be. 

Nightwing was surprised when he glanced over and realized that the Red hood had been crying. Was still crying. The streaks that ran down his dirty face easily visible. 

“I need to go back.” 

Nightwing had no idea how to reply to that. Once the struggles had stopped completely and Hood began to relax against him, Nightwing opened a line on the open channel. “I need a car.” 

Robin quickly, and eagerly, replied that he would drive on over. The kid had gotten his very own car not that long ago and he was always excited for the chance to drive it, and with B out of town its not a surprising offer. 

After making sure Robin knew where to go, he shut down the line and wrapped more firmly around his criminal captive. 

Drugs or mind control were the top contenders in Nightwings mind for what was causing this behaviour. He would need to run some tests to determine which. Then find out if this was a specific plan, or if someone was just messing with the Red Hood because he had pissed off the wrong person. Or if he stumbled into something that might soon be a city-wide problem. 

The man in question had been quiet and still, but now in a surprisingly soft voice he informed Dick “I’m tired.” 

Nightwing was about to make a crack about that, maybe laugh that its not surprising after all that yard work, but he was thrown off guard as the Hood dropped his head back against Nightwings shoulder to stare blankly up at the dark cloudy sky. 

“Everything hurts. I want it to stop.” It was said flat, no emotions. “I’m tired.” 

Oh. _Oh._

Dick felt a hole open up inside of him. When Jason said he ‘wanted to go back’... 

His arms squeezed the body in his arms, in a way that felt more like a hug than a restraint. 

Not that he seemed to need to restrain the other, Hood having gone almost boneless against him. 

Robin connected again to let him know his ride was here. Nightwing asked for assistance and directed the kid to their location. 

He arrived quickly and froze taking in the scene. Dick could see the kid reaching for his staff. 

“Help me get us out of here?” Nightwing asked nodding to the hole they stood in. 

Tim hesitated for a moment before cautiously approaching. With a bit of help Nightwing managed to wriggle his way out from under the other and over the edge to more sold ground. Then they hoisted the bigger man out as well. Hood surprisingly put up no resistance. 

They got him to his feet and with a hand wrapped tight around his arm began leading them off in the direction Robin had approached from. 

A glance back showed him Robin scooping up the forgotten helmet and giving one last frown towards the grave before following them at a distance. 

Even when he was let go to climb over the fence Hood just followed obediently. It was only after Robin darted ahead and opened the back door, when they were trying to get him into the car that Hood put up a bit of a fight. It wasn’t much of one, more token resistance than anything, and they quickly had him secured. 

“Did you tranq him?” Robin asked as they shut the door. 

“Do you have a tranq?” He asked after a moments consideration. 

In a moment Nightwing found himself holding a needle full of sedative. 

Just before he grabbed hold of the handle to reopen the door he was hit with a sudden powerful flashback to a kid who _hated_ needles. Who would rather deal with incredible pain than be stuck with one. 

He remembered Alfred mentioning he sometimes slipped the pills the boy required into the kids food. 

_“I know they’re in there,” the kid shrugged, “It just_ _easier this way.”_

Nightwing took a deep breath before opening the door and holding the needle up for the man to see. 

Eyes widened slightly, the frown deepened, but he didn’t pull away as the needle was put to his skin and slowly pushed in. He watched Nightwing unblinkingly until Nightwing stepped back. 

Robin looked completely unnerved as the door was once more shut. “So what exactly happened?” 

“I have no clue.” Nightwing sighed, running a gloved and over his face. “Honestly.” 

There was a moment of silence before Nightwing asked “Are you driving us?” He knew the kid loved driving, but it was understandable if this is one trip he wanted to skip out on. 

But the kid just nodded, making his way around to the drivers seat without taking his eyes off their passenger. 

“So...where to?” Robin asked as they drove off, partition raised between the front and the back seats. 

Dick closed his eyes and sighed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason tells the others about the day he died. Seems Batman left out a few details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Bruce wouldn't ever tell anyone what actually happened that day considering how he completely shut down when he returned.
> 
> This chapter is just another re-telling of A Death In The Family. Hopefully it's still interesting!

It wasn’t the best road trip ever. 

Robin was less than pleased when he found out they weren’t taking their villain straight to the police, nor even to the cave. Nightwing saw him tighten his grip on the steering wheel, but was so grateful when Tim didn’t say anything. 

Then at one point Nightwing heard a noise from the back and felt his heart jump out of his chest when he saw the Red Hood leaning heavily on the door and trying to open it as they sped down the street. 

“Its – he won’t open it. Its sealed.” Robin assured him, sounding perturbed. 

It didn’t take them long to get to a safe house. Getting Hood out of the car was proving to be much more difficult than getting him in to it now that he was unconscious. It didn’t help that he was taller and heavier than Nightwing himself, but they managed to get him onto a cot in one of emergency medical rooms. 

After a moments debate they stripped him of his shirt and jacket, putting him in a hospital gown before handcuffing the man to the bed. 

The two vigilantes made sure he was secured before leaving the room, locking it behind them. Dick stripped off his mask and massaged his eyes as he headed to the makeshift kitchen to see if they had any instant coffee. 

“Seriously Nightwing, what’s happening? What’s the plan?” 

Dick resisted sighing as he emptied a bottle of water into the electric kettle and turned it on. 

“I want to run some tests. See if Hood was drugged – fear toxin maybe? – or, I don’t know. But that wasn’t normal. He seemed...” 

“Was he...” Tim gave a questioning look, shrugging towards the room. 

“I don’t – maybe? It certainly sounded like it.” 

“And if he is?” 

Scrubbing his hand over his face Dick shrugged. “Arkham? I guess. Get him some help.” 

“And if he’s not?” The note of anger in Robins voice grew a little louder. 

“Find out what _is_ going on and...” He ran out of steam halfway through the sentence. “Find out what Batman wants to do with him.” 

“Dick this is serious!” 

“Well sorry if suicidal serial killers is slightly out of my wheel house!” 

Robin flinched and Dick deflated. “I’m sorry. Red Hood makes things complicated. And I know this sucks for you,” Tim reached up to grab the front of his tunic glaring at the floor. “This is an awful situation, and I’m sorry I dragged you into it. You got us here like I needed, thank you. Now you should probably head back out so _someone_ is actually patrolling.” 

“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Robins voice was firm but most of the anger had left. 

Dick laid his hand on his younger brothers shoulder and when Tim didn’t tense or shrug him off he pulled Robin into a hug. 

“Thanks Tim.” 

When they pulled apart Dick started to prepare them both a cup of coffee while Tim sat and removed his own mask. 

“I have to go in there...but the camera is on and I’ll keep my comm in if you want to watch from another room.” 

Tim opened his mouth and then closed it before giving a silent nod. 

They did a quick run through of all the things they could test for, different things that might have been affecting his behaviour as they down the coffee and then head off to the separate rooms. 

Dick worked efficiently as he drew a blood sample and ran a few other tests with the equipment they had on hand. 

He left the sample, trusting Tim to let him know if there’s anything interesting in it, then he started doing a more basic check up. 

The Hood was not much smaller without his armour on, which made no difference today as the man hadn’t worn any. He really had just been wearing a T-shirt under his jacket while still going out as the Red Hood. It was like he was painting a giant target on himself. 

He had been carrying one gun – which they had quickly confiscated – instead of his normal two. Dick wondered briefly if the other one had been dropped or lost somewhere, and if he would need to track it down. He put it out of his mind for now. 

The man seemed healthy enough, a bit warm, possibly a little dehydrated. Tired, if he was any guess, but then who wasn’t? Slightly more concerning were the untreated injuries on the mans back. His chest, arms and legs seemed fine, only a couple of wounds looked recent and they had been taken care of. The ones on his back however don’t look like they had been touched at all. 

Which likely meant there was no one the man trusted to help with them. 

That’s a good way to get dead. 

After doing what he could to sterilize and bandage Dick pulled up a chair with nothing to do now but wait. 

It didn’t take anywhere near as long as it should have for the Hood to start to rouse. 

Nightwing sat up a little straighter, knowing the Hood would be a bit out of it for a while until the sedatives left his system which meant that this was probably his best chance for a chat. 

It didn’t take long for the other man to open his eyes, or for those eyes to land on him. 

“Morning Hood. Well, it’s the middle of the night still, but I thought it seemed like a good time to talk.” 

“Want to tell me what you were doing in the cemetery?” Dick continued when he was given no response. 

Rolling his head to stare up at the ceiling while he tested the restraints. 

“Had a bad day.” Hood finally replied, speech slightly slurred. 

“My bad days don’t usually leave me trying to crawl into a coffin.” 

The hood muttered something that sounded _far_ too much like “lucky you” for Nightwings liking. 

“Want to tell me about it?” 

There was another distended moment of silence before Hoods head rolled to face him, teal eyes locked on, and a cruel smile spread across his face. 

“Hey ‘wing, Bats ever tell you about the day I died?” Nightwing did his best not to shift in his seat. It had taken a lot of work to even get a cliffnotes version of the story. How Bruce had been busy disarming a bomb and Robin had run off against orders to fight the Joker himself. How Robin was so determined to show off how good he was. How Jason disobeyed and ended up getting killed for it. “Bet he did. Bet he tells it once a year like a holiday tradition. _Gather around kids_ _, I’ll tell you a cautionary tale_ _of_ _a Gotham street rat_ _._ ” 

Nightwing glared which only made him grin wider. 

“Why don’t you tell me about it yourself.” Dick challenged when he was able to control his voice. Hood frowned at him, “The two of you travelled to Ethiopia to track down the Joker?” If the Red Hood honestly just needs someone to talk to Dick is willing to lend an ear. He had done it for other villains, and even if this felt like a knife twisting in his gut, he would sit through it. 

To be honest a sick part of him wanted to know the rest of the story. 

Hoods frown deepened slightly. Though it was obvious the drugs were still affecting him, lessening his responses as well as loosening his tongue. “No? I was looking for my mom.” Dick remembered the story of the second Robins mom, she had OD’d when the kid was like eleven. “Batman was tracking down some terrorists in Lebanon but then decided to tag along.” It was possible the drugs were affecting him a little _too_ much. 

“Catherine Todd passed away a long time ago.” He barely bit off the ‘Jase’ he almost tacked on at the end of the sentence. 

The hood didn’t seem to notice, he only looked confused. “No...my birth mom. Sheila?” 

Did he _have_ a birth mom? Dick wasn’t sure. If there _was_ one no one told Dick about it. 

“Finally tracked her down. Doctor in a relief organization. Worked with refugees. I found her.” The soft smile, though short lived, told that the other didn’t _think_ he was lying. But he could be confusing his life for a movie he saw once, or a book he had read. Could just be dreaming it all up now. 

“But the Joker showed up.” The frown returned “Threatened her. Threatened the camp. I told her we’d protect her, told Batman.” 

The was another long stretch of silence. 

“What happened next?” 

Hood seemed to try out his words before voicing them, “We went to the warehouse. Found out there’s a bomb,” Nightwing was absurdly about to ask him to go back, he had skipped a bit to the end, but Jason continued. “Hid it with the crates and sent it with the relief workers to the camp. B went after them to disarm it.” There was an oddly proud smile on the mans face before it disappeared and panic set in. “He got it right? I never checked. He got it?” 

Dick reached out, hands up and used his most soothing voice to placate the man. “He got it. It’s alright, he stopped it.” 

“All those kids, those poor kids.” 

He grabbed Jasons arm “It’s alright, he got it. Batman got the bomb.” 

It took a moment of searching his face for the kid, the younger man to believe him. When he did, he fell back onto the pillow looking exhausted. 

Hood looked at the verge of going back to sleep. Nightwing shook the arm he was still gripping. “Hey?” and when the eyes opened, “where were you?” 

When he was met with a confused look he clarified, “Batman went to stop the bomb. Where were you?” 

The confused look didn’t go away but the story continued on, “Went back to the warehouse. Wasn’t sposed to go in, but mom said it was empty. She wanted to show me something.” 

Jason turned to look back up at the ceiling, looking a thousand miles away. 

“She had something to show me. It wasn’t empty though. I told her to run. Why didn’t she run? The Joker was there. We’d protect her. Why didn’t she run? I wanted her to – I told her to? – if she found Bruce he’d protect her. I would have tried to hold them off for her.” Jason sounded confused and lost. Every word was spoken slowly, like Jason had to think hard about each one. 

Dick had a sick feeling he knew where this was going. 

“They hit me. I told her to run. They had a deal but Joker double crosses everyone. Why didn’t she run? He was distracted, Bruce would’ave saved her.” 

_Distracted._ Beating Jason was a _distraction_. Breaking his bones was a _game_. 

“Joker had a crowbar. Sheila watched. He wanted to play. Forehand or back hand,” Jason pulled against the restraints like he wanted to demonstrate. “One? Or two? One? Or two? He laughed. Sheila watched.” 

There was a pause so long Dick thought the story might end there. He hoped it ended there even though he knew it didn’t. He felt sick. 

“He got bored and tied her up. I wish she had run. Left a bomb next to me. Door was locked. I couldn’t see good nuff to disarm it. Not much time anyways.” 

He turned a pleading look towards Dick, though it was debatable if he even saw him. “I tried to protect her. I tried to shield her. I _did._ ” Dick wanted to say something, but there were no words. Jason closed his eyes, taking it as a rebuke it wasn’t meant to be. “I failed. I know. Talia told me Sheila died.” Dick let go of his arm at last, curling in on himself in his own chair. 

Jason turned his face away once more. His voice lost all emotion. “That’s two moms I let die. No wonder Bruce didn’t want me. What a disappointment I must have been. Easy to replace. What a _failure_.” His voice, which had been growing fainter, faded off entirely at the end. 

Dick wanted to argue. He wanted to comfort his brother. Wanted to shake him and hug him and tell him he was safe, was never a disappointment. 

Instead Dick hung his head and cried. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully it seemed jarring enough to excuse that last line haha  
> Dick has to go from seeing Jason as his little brother, to a cold blooded killer, back to being a scared fifteen year old who died trying to save someone. A bit of emotional whiplash.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this at all :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara reflects on what Jason went through

When Jason was asleep and Dick had composed himself, he exited the room quietly and went to the small washroom to splash water on his face. 

Leaning on the sink he looked at his own miserable reflection. “Heard any of that O?” 

“Only every knife in heart word.” 

Dick huffed. “It’s all true?” 

He heard a couple of keyboard clicks, but it was only enough to pull up the information. She probably searched and verified everything earlier. 

“Sheila Haywood: worked at Gotham General. Loose with the prescription pad, and on the verge of being investigated for claims of malpractice. Gave birth to one Jason Peter Todd, before fleeing the country. Worked with a few charitable organizations before dying in a mysterious warehouse explosion.” 

Well. 

Fuck. 

If that was all true. If Jason died trying to save a woman who betrayed him, if he came back thinking he had been replaced and forgotten because he had _failed_. It was no wonder he had come back hurt and lashing out. 

And _god_ , replaced but not _forgotten._ ‘ _A Good Soldier’._ Some how Bruce had turned Jason into both a cautionary tale and propaganda at the same time. 

And they had let him. 

This was so messed up. 

Everything was so messed up. 

\- 

Barbara listened to Dick try to calm himself down. She listened to Tim typing on a laptop. She listened to Jason sleeping. 

Dick may have been upset, but Barbara was _pissed._

She had been around when Jason had been killed, but she had been so wrapped up in her own Joker related trauma to look much past ‘Joker-hurts-another-kid’. 

She distinctly remembers being glad Jason died. Jason didn’t have to relive the experience every time he closed his eyes. Jason didn’t have to go to phsyio therapy. Jason didn’t have to jump at every knock at the door. He didn’t have to face pitying looks, or re learn how to get around the house, or try to put his life back together. 

He was _dead_ . It was _over_ for him. 

But then he wasn’t. 

She had been lost and angry, but she had her dad beside her the whole time. She had doctors and a therapist to talk things through with. And when she was ready to start up her life again she had Bruce and a couple others in the cape and cowl club to help her find her ground. 

Jason had Talia. 

In a time when he needed to heal, he was taught how to fight. 

Instead of facing his anger and working through it, he was shown how to make it into a weapon. 

If someone had shown up when she was at her worst and told her ‘ _kill or die’_ she would have absolutely killed someone. Would have prayed that killing them would stop her own pain for even a minute. 

Even now. Even when she’s ‘ _better_ ’ she doesn’t necessarily think that killing certain people is wrong. Some people deserve to die. Joker is at the top of the list. 

Then when Jason came back, hurt and lost and angry, with the league whispering in his ear, when he tried to avenge his own brutal and senseless murder, they fought him. Batman stopped him. 

Jason had done some horrifying things since he came back. There’s no question about that. So they all took the moral high ground. Treated him like the monster he was trying to play. 

They dealt with real monsters on a daily basis. They dealt with Black Mask and Zsasz, and they gave those people a second chance. They gave Jason a batarang to the throat. 

He asked for proof his father had loved him and they took him down. _Hard._

That had been hard to watch. Batman choosing to save the Joker. Hard for her for her own selfish reasons. 

They all distanced themselves from him, pretended like they had never known him. And when he lashed out, when he attacked, it only solidified in each of their minds that they were right and righteous, and he was an insane evil villain. 

For a moment she let herself wonder what would have happened if they had reached out. If Bruce _had_ done what he should have that night with the Red Hood and the Joker. 

But she shut the thought down quickly. It wasn’t productive to think ‘what ifs’. They could only move forward with what is. 

And what it _currently_ is, is a good time to beat the stuffing out of her punching bag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter sorry. Next one is longer I promise


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim has his own chat with Jason

Tim found Dick standing in the kitchen, leaning heavily onto the back of a chair. The man looked wrecked. 

Not that Tim could blame him. Tim had never known Jason, not really, not until the man came back and tried to kill him. But he remembers Robin. The Robin he had chased around Gotham whenever he could. 

It was jarring to see the violent drug lord the kid grew up to be. More jarring to see the kid was still in there somewhere. 

“Find anything in the bloodwork?” Nightwing asked, apparently noticing him while he hovered awkwardly in the doorway. 

“Just a low-grade infection. Nothing some antibiotics wont clear up.” Nightwing nodded, then after a moment stood and ran both hands through his hair. 

The hero was clearly at a loss for what to do now. If it had been an outside influence affecting the Red Hood they could have gone out and punched some one, or found a cure. 

Instead they were left with a traumatized young man. 

A regular civilian they would try to talk down, give them a number for counselling. A regular criminal could be brought to the asylum and be put on suicide watch. 

It must be harder when the person used to be family. 

Tim wondered briefly what that must be like. What if his dad woke up from the coma hell bent on taking over the city’s underworld, attacked Tims friends and his new family, and then turned up one night just like this? 

He couldn’t picture it. Can’t guess what Dick is thinking or feeling. 

The whole thing seems to have come out of left field for the man. 

“Its April.” Tim offered quietly. 

Nightwing lifted his head and looked at him quizzically. “Today, its April. April 27. It’s the day...” 

“Jesus.” Dick stared at him wide eyed and horrified. “Todays the date he was murdered. God I forgot. I forgot.” 

Tim flinched, he hadn’t meant to put more burden on him. He had just thought an explanation might help. Clearly he was wrong. 

“I just...I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” 

“Why don’t you get breakfast?” Dicks head shot up and he looked at Tim like he was crazy. “The Red Hood will be out for a while still, and I don’t think any of us will be heading for bed anytime soon. So why not have something to eat? Maybe stop an early morning mugger or two while you’re out.” besides, moving always seemed to help Dick think more clearly. 

“I can’t just leave you alone...” 

“Its fine.” Tim shrugged. “He’s unconscious and tied up. I’ll be working in another room. I’ll contact you if anything happens.” 

It only took a little more convincing for Dick to relent. A change of clothes (well, he threw sweats and a hoodie over his current clothes), and a promise that he wasn’t going far and he finally left. Hopefully he could find some measure of peace with the fresh air. 

Tim counted to fifty before making his way to the medical care room. 

The Red Hood was still asleep, which wasn’t surprising. What _was_ surprising was how young he looked. Even though Tim knows that the man in the bed is objectively young. There’s not much of an age gap between the two of them. The helmet helps to hide that though. When he’s out there running the streets its so easy to forget that this criminal mastermind is barely legally considered an adult. 

Of course age wasn’t everything. The Titans proved teens could do most anything. 

Still, dying and resurrecting wasn’t an average Tuesday even for them. 

Tim slowly made his way around the bed to sit in the chair Nightwing had occupied earlier. 

Tim focused on his own clasped hands, hunched over in his chair as he worked out exactly what he wanted to say. 

“Hood – _Jason_ – I know I’m not your favourite person in the world, but I wanted to talk and this seemed like it would be the only real chance.” 

Tim took a deep breath shifting in his seat. “When I was a kid I used to sneak out to get pictures of Batman. I was always so happy to see Robin. The second one. I knew there was a new one right away. Less flips and adrenaline rush, and more grounded and earnest help. That’s why Robin was my favourite. He was – you were – so...” Tim moved his fingers to mime an explosion “ _bright_ _._ You were a light. And the way you always wanted to help someone, the way you cared more about helping the victims than hurting the criminals... it always made me feel safe. Like Gotham wasn’t all bad. It couldn’t be.” 

Tim folded his hands again and dropped his eyes to the floor. “And then you died.” It sounded like an accusation even to Tims own ears. “You died and Batman broke. He was so angry and he was so vicious. He started sending petty criminals to the hospital. Broken bones and concussions and worse. It wasn’t right. He was hurting people. He was going to kill some one. 

“I had to do something” A guilty glance up showed him the man was still asleep. “I tried to find some one else to fill the role, but when there was no one else I stepped up and took it for myself. I wasn’t trying to replace you. I never meant to. I wanted to honour you. What you stood for.” 

Tim sat back and looked up at the ceiling. This part wasn’t his story to tell but it needed to be told. “Dick killed the Joker.” Tim whispered like a confession. 

“No ‘e didn’” The voice was quiet and slurred but it made Tim jump out of his skin. 

The Red hood was struggling to open his eyes (and Tim honestly had no idea how long he has been waking up), but he was listening. “He did. A while back. Before _you_ came back. The Joker was resuscitated... but for you, Dick would have killed him.” Jason deserved to know. Dick would have avenged his brother. If that’s what he needed, he should know he had it. 

There was an odd crease between Jasons brows as he eventually muttered his reply. “Shouldn’t be on Dickie bird.” 

Tim paused. It shouldn’t be on Dick. What did he mean? That it was Bruces burden? That Dick shouldn’t have to take a life? Or was Jason saying that he thought the two of them were not close enough for Dick to avenge him? Something else? 

The nick name denoted affection. 

“Do you hate him?” Tim asked quietly. He knew Jason hated Tim himself. Hated his replacement, maybe hated the father that abandoned him too, but, “Do you hate Dick?” 

The crease deepened as Jason clearly tried to make sense of the question. Then, after a long moment, it smoothed out and a crooked grin appeared “We went skiing.” And with that he was out again. 

Tim blinked. That wasn’t an answer he had been expecting. Jason had sounded... 

“They did you know.” 

Tim jumped once more having forgotten he still had his ear piece in. “Jason had hated the cold, but he loved that trip.” 

Tim felt distinctly embarrassed that Barbara had heard everything. But. Well. There’s no secrets from Oracle. 

It hurt that she sounded emotional. Oracle was good at hiding behind an indifferent mask. This must be shaking her. 

Tim quickly and quietly left the room. “How are you doing?” He asked sounding awkward. 

“Oh...you know.” It was a non answer, but yeah, he could guess. 

“I didn’t know – Did you two used to be close?” Because he honestly didn’t know. Talking about Jason had been taboo, and his reappearance seems to have over written any fond memories. 

“I um, I used to tutor him.” 

“Bad student?” it was easy to picture. The structure and the elitism and the droning lectures, it was easy to imagine Jason wanting to break out of the classrooms. Tim usually just slept in class. 

“No actually. Top of his class. He had just... fallen behind.” Right. Because he had been living on the street for a time. “He loved school.” 

“I can’t even imagine that. School sucks.” 

Tim was pleased to hear Barbara snort a small laugh. 

“He loved it. He was always eager to learn, every subject. He was such a little chatterbox.” 

“What was he like?” Tim asked quietly. Barbara could ignore the question if she didn’t want to answer it- its why he had never asked Dick- but Tim had always wondered. He knew what Robin was like, he had seen how Jason acted in official public appearances, but he never met the boy himself. 

“He was sassy. Had a comeback for everything. Read like a fiend, and quoted Shakespeare when ever he had the chance – to Alfreds delight. And he would eat anything.” Tim tried not to hear her voice cracking. “He would come over after school sometimes. We would go over his school work and gossip, we would eat dinner with my Dad if he was home – Jason liked to help in the kitchen but he was skittish around Dad. Then if he finished his homework before he had to leave we’d watch Buffy, or Xena, anything with a strong female lead.” A sniffle over the line. “He was – Oh shit!” it was odd to hear Barbara curse and Tim was instantly on alert. “He’s awake. He’s up. Robin I need you to get in there.” 

Tim jumped to action right away, darting back to the room. Jason startled and turned to face him with wide eyes. The man seemed to be caught some where between panic and rage. Tim gave him a once over as he took a cautious step forward, trying to figure out how to proceed. 

Jason was sitting frozen in the bed staring at him. It was easy to see what had Barbara panicked. Jason had been pulling at the handcuffs binding him to the bed hard enough that his wrists were bleeding. 

“Ok-“ And that was as far as he got before Jason started thrashing, tugging hard at his restraints, glaring at Tim and growling. “Jason! Jason calm down. Its okay.” Tim moved up beside the bed but hesitated to touch Jason. “Jason calm down. I’ll uncuff you. Calm down and I will unlock the cuffs. Okay? Just relax.” Tim kept repeating the same types of phrases while he pulled a key out, holding it up for Jason to see. Jasons struggling slowed down but he stayed tense and angry. Finally with one last violent attempt to free himself he stopped moving. “okay. Just relax, I’m just going to unlock this.” Tim telegraphed his moves while Jason glared daggers at him. Jasons arm was shaking and there was a decent amount of blood. The wrist was rubbed raw. But Tim managed to get the key in the lock and open it. 

Tim jumped back as Jason swiped at him as soon as one arm was free. Circling to the foot of the bed Tim held up the key again. “I’m going to toss this to you. No one is going to hurt you. Just stay calm.” Jason caught the key easily but had trouble putting it properly into the lock. A frustrated noise and more pulling had Tim revert back to the mindless calming phrases. 

Most of the panic seemed to die away as the second cuff was removed, but Jason still eyed Tim warily. 

“Okay, if you can just sit still for a moment I would like to clean and wrap your wrists.” But Jason had already slipped off the bed and was backing towards the door, eyes locked on Tim. 

Jason moved until he was against the wall, turning his head to do a quick sweep of the room outside before locking back on Tim. Jason moved cautiously out of the room while Tim held up his hands placatingly, “No ones looking to hurt you.” But then Jason was darting down the hallway. Tim followed in time to see Jason grab one of the coats they left by the door. And then he was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter? One more to go! Though the ending is giving me trouble, it should be posted by next week  
> Thanks for reading so far


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick returns to find Jason gone

Dick returned with a big bag of food from an all night diner. When he entered the safe house he immediately felt something was off. He spotted Tim slumped down in a chair in the kitchen. Making his way towards the kid he took a glance in the open medical room, then had to pause and check it properly. 

The bed was empty, cuffs laying open, and a little bit of blood on the sheets and a couple of drops on the floor. Dick surveyed the room quickly from the doorway, panic creeping up, making sure it was empty before tip-toeing towards Tim. 

“Sorry.” Tim said when he approached. 

“Hey.” Dick crouched down and reached out, placing his hand on the boys shoulder, wanting the other to look at him. Worry thrumming through his veins. 

Tim eventually sat up a bit and turned to him. Tired and determined, but thankfully not bloody or bruised. 

“I let him go.” 

“Are you okay?” 

Tim nodded. “He woke up and freaked out. He was going to take his hand off trying to get free. So I unlocked him and let him leave.” 

“He didn’t hurt you?” That was the important thing right now. 

Tim shook his head. “That’s good.” The panic started to ebb. “Why didn’t you contact me when he woke up?” 

“It happened too fast.” Tim dropped his head looking scolded. 

Dick squeezed his shoulder. “You did the right thing,” Tim was usually quick with a plan in tense situations, if he thought letting the other go was the right thing to do at the time then Dick trusted him. 

“C’mon, its late and you should get home and get some sleep. Not much we can do here right now.” 

Tim looked up sharply. “What about you?” he asked with a note of accusation. 

“I’m just going to do a quick patrol and then head in. Might even crash at the manor.” Dick smiled hoping to lighten the others mood. 

“Dick” Robin said warningly. 

Dick raised his hands placatingly, “Just a quick sweep. Swear if I spot him I won’t engage.” 

Tim held his gaze for a moment before sighing. 

When they stood Dick wrapped his arm over Tims shoulders as they walked back to the car. 

“Thank you for sticking around tonight.” 

“Of course.” Tim replied in a way that suggested it was never a choice. He hesitated at the drivers door though. “What are we telling Batman.” 

Dick rocked back and forth on his heels as he thought the question over. “Dunno. Nothing maybe.” 

Tim nodded, lifted his hand in a tired wave and climbed into the car. 

Looking down at his occupied hand Dick darted forward and tapped on Tims window. When the kid rolled it down Dick tossed the bag of food on the passenger seat and darted back with a grin and a wave. It was enough to make the boy huff at least before driving off. 

After the car disappeared Dick went back to clean the room Jason had been in. Standing by the bed he stared at the cuffs for a long moment before disconnecting them from the cot. He would have to clean and disinfect them later. And maybe tell B to put in some safety restraints. Finally he stripped the bed and cleaned the spot on the floor before putting his mask back on and heading out. 

He spent another half hour out on the street before Oracle connected telling him “Its time to call it Nightwing.” 

He sighed and agreed. There hadn’t been a trace of the man, but with Jason that really wasn’t surprising. 

Dick was drained in a way that only emotional confrontations could do. But there was still _something_ thrumming under the surface. 

With a frustrated noise Dick sighed “I don’t know what I am supposed to do.” 

After a moment of silence Oracle whispered back. “I don’t know.” 

The three hardest words for the Bat clan and it seemed to be the consensus tonight. 

“How are you holding up?” 

“...Not great.” 

“Want me to swing by?” 

“Yes.” 

So Nightwing made his way over. When he arrived, Babs was waiting for him with another pair of sweat pants and the offer of a hot shower. 

He debated for a hot second whether to take her up on that or if he was still planning on going to the cave later. It was ultimately an easy choice. If Babs wanted the company of an old friend, he should be here for her. 

After a wonderfully hot shower and change of clothes he wandered back out, through the rooms until he found Barbara sitting up in bed. 

When she indicated the spot beside her he hurriedly took it. 

The conversation started awkwardly but grew steadily easier. They went over the events of the night, over their own frustrations – Babaras anger and Dicks self-doubt, over the way they had each tarnished the memory of the boy. 

And then they talked about Jason. Stories of when he was brave or ridiculous. What they knew of his hopes and dreams. His plans for his future. 

And for the first time, Dick sat with a member of his family and mourned his little brother. 

They spent the night just sharing space, then in the morning as Barbara was starting her breakfast Dick dropped a kiss to her temple and took off. 

He needed to get to the manor. 

He needed to see Bruce. He needed to understand how they had come to this. 

He took a taxi in his borrowed clothes, and was for once happy he wasn’t the one driving, the ride giving him time to sort through what he needed to talk about. 

The trip seemed far too short and all too soon he was running up the steps and letting himself through the front door. 

“Bruce?” He called, heading to run up the stairs to check if the man was in. 

“Master Richard?” Dick turned halfway up the steps to watch Alfred appear from the direction of the kitchen. 

“Hey Al.” Dick gave a shaky smile. “Is Bruce home?” 

“I’m afraid not,” he replied as Dick walked back down the stairs to meet him. “Is there something I may assist you with?” 

“I just...need to talk to him.” Dick shrugs, not quite meeting the other mans eyes. Feeling foolish for racing over here. He had known Bruce had gone on some last minute business trip, it was why Dick was _in_ Gotham, keeping an eye on things. He should have called or something. 

A sad look passes over the old butlers face “Master Bruce always finds a reason to be out of the city at this time of the year. I believe he finds it necessary to stay busy. He should return in a day or two.” 

Dick rocked back slightly. He hadn’t even thought about the possibility that Bruces absence had been planned to coincide with the date of Jasons death. 

Of course Bruce would need to get away. Otherwise he might have to confront _emotions_ or have to _talk to t_ _hem_ like a normal person. 

No. That’s not fair. 

Bruce lost his son. He had to find the boys body and bring him back home. Dick couldn’t judge him for having a hard time. 

On the other hand, his son _wasn’t_ dead, and he couldn’t be allowed to pretend otherwise. They _couldn’t_. 

“Yeah... that’s sort of what I wanted to talk to him about.” Dick admitted looking at Alfred apologetically. “We. Uh, we ran into the Red Hood last night.” 

Alfred’s eyes widened slightly before he schooled his features. 

“It wasn’t good.” 

“I imagine it wouldn’t be. Was anyone injured?” 

“Not...physically?” 

Alfred hummed with an eyebrow raised before ordering Dick into the kitchen for tea. 

Dick dutifully sat at the kitchen island as Alfred set a plate of cookies in front of him before turning his back to start boiling the water. 

He picked at one without any real desire to eat it. It just gave him something to do while he figured out how to start. 

“While on patrol I came across Red Hood,” yeah he had said that part already, “and we got to talking.” 

Alfred turned just enough to give him The Eyebrow. 

“Honest,” Dick raised his hands “barely any fighting at all. I’m not even bruised.” 

Alfred held the look for a moment longer before turning back to whatever he was doing. 

“He ended up... he told me everything. About how he died.” Dick glances up and felt immediately bad at the tense way Alfred was holding himself. There’s a reason he is editing the story. Small omissions really. 

“How could, how could Bruce tell us Jason died because he wasn’t following orders? He straight up lied to all of us. Jason was out there trying to protect people.” 

“Yes, that had been Master Jasons motivation for most of his actions.” 

“Alfred I feel sick.” He confessed. “To think about Jason out there hurt and alone and – “ _suicidal_. Dick cut himself off. Telling Alfred would only hurt the old man. They weren’t even sure. Maybe it was just, just a bad night. 

“Since his return it has been easier for you, and for Master Bruce, to separate the man from the boy he used to be. In the same way I believe it has been easier for Master Bruce to take out his grief as anger towards the son who he never expected to come home.” Dick flinched and found himself wondering if Alfred ever shared their disconnect, or if, whenever they mentioned the Red Hood, Alfred pictured that scrawny scrappy kid who would have happily moved his bed into the library. 

“I can’t, I can’t do that anymore Alf.” 

Alfred gave one firm nod. 

“But I can’t pretend that what he’s doing is alright. He’s hurting people. He’s killing people. He’s become a crime lord like he used to want to put away. He’s not _my_ Jason.” 

“No. He is a Jason that has gone through a deeply traumatic experience and then had to grow up without his family to support him.” 

Dick ran his hands over the countertop, back and forth, spreading his fingers along the cool surface. “Maybe I just never really knew him. I didn’t even know he was looking for his birth mother. He never told me.” 

Alfred hummed. “He hadn’t told anyone. I’m afraid his fathers death hit him harder than we realized. And with the way he and Master Bruce had been fighting, I believe that finding out that his mother was not in fact his birth mother was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back. Young Master Jason must have felt compelled to seek out the only family he thought he had left.” 

“They were fighting?” The whistle sounded and Alfred poured the boiling water, bringing the teapot and two china cups over. “Why didn’t he come to me?” 

“Master Jason always seemed to believe he must solve his problems on his own. A trait I fear he has not outgrown. One that may still lead him to trouble.” 

Dick ducked his head guiltily “I don’t know what to do.” 

Alfred reached across the counter and placed his hand over Dicks. “You do.” 

Dick took a moment, staring down at the teacup, and thought of the kid he knew, the man he met tonight, and everything Jason went through in between. He thought of all that he knew about Jason and every important moment that Dick had missed. He thought of being alone and dying and then finding out that his death changed nothing. Finally, he thought of Bruce, and Tim, and Babs, and where he would be without them. What it would be like without Alfred or his friends. What _he_ would be like. 

Dick closed his eyes and took a deep breath before meeting the other mans strong but endlessly kind gaze. 

“I’m going to help him. I don’t know how. I doubt he’ll let me. But I’m going to find a way to reach him.” 

Alfred squeezed his hand and offered a rare smile, “I don’t doubt you will.” 

That night Nightwing went out into the city, with his regular cheerful chatter, with his family in his ear, and now, with a new determination to bring his brother home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -But Jason had already skipped town.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading this! The comments and kudos have all meant the world to me!
> 
> I'm not totally satisfied with the last couple of paragraphs, but it's the best I could come up with to wrap everything up haha 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it


End file.
